Seducing the Billionaire's Secretary

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by Marquita Valentine




  Seducing the Billionaire’s Secretary

  Copyright © 2015 by Marquita Valentine

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover Design by LM Designs

  www.marquitavalentine.com

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  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Seducing the Billionaire's Secretary

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  Books by Marquita Valentine

  Author Bio

  Seducing the Billionaire’s Secretary

  Ella Simpson loves her job at Montgomery Industry. She also loves her boss. Well, make that loved, because the man of her dreams—and one-sided email conversations—is getting married. Worse, she’s been asked to serve as a bridesmaid at his destination wedding. Even more dreadful than that... the best man is Blake York, her boss’s partner and the man who read every single one of her humiliating emails and has been tormenting her ever since.

  For three years, British billionaire Blake York has been secretly longing for his partner’s sassy little personal assistant. She’s beautiful, witty, and has a bubbly smile for everyone... except him. Ever since he discovered her little secret, she’s given him the cold shoulder.

  But now that her secret crush is getting married, Blake seizes the opportunity to make her his... and he’s not above a bit of old-fashioned blackmail to do it.

  Chapter One

  Blake York was head over heels in love with his secretary. Perhaps calling Ella Simpson his secretary was stretching it a bit, since she technically worked for another man and only helped Blake out whenever his personal assistant was out of the office.

  But a bloke could dream.

  He could fantasize about her bringing him tea every morning and finding excuses to stay to chat him up. Or stumble over too high heels, allowing him to play the hero by catching her moments before her perfect knees hit the floor.

  Perhaps she’d forget how to login or run reports, and require him to teach her the ropes once more. Their bodies nearly touching, their heads inched close together. The light floral scent of her perfume would invade his every pore until he was a blithering idiot of a man.

  Ah, yes, the fantasies he had at work were most definitely tame compared to the ones he had at night. The ones where he slowly peeled away her clothes and spent hours exploring her delectable body.

  However, his daytime dreams would never come true, much less his nighttime fantasies. Ella was too capable, too independent, and too infatuated with his business partner to notice him.

  He frowned just as she happened to glance his way, but it was too late to change his expression. Her friendly smile slid away, confusion replacing it as she turned her attention back to taking notes.

  “Blake,” Andrew said.

  “Here.”

  His partner narrowed his eyes. That was all he needed to cap off his morning. Andrew Montgomery didn’t trust him as it was, and not paying attention due to daydreaming about a lower-level employee would not do Blake any favors.

  William, Andrew’s father, had hired Blake six months ago, but that still hadn’t been enough time to thaw the son out. Most likely, Andrew viewed Blake as competition for his father’s attention, or for his share of a multi-billion-dollar company.

  Blake didn’t need the money, or the elder Montgomery’s approval, beyond a job well done. He’d made his first billion a couple of years ago, invested the majority of it, and spent his time traveling the world until word got around that Montgomery Industry was in need of a chief technology officer. It wasn’t a conventional position in the least, and it was one most companies were years away from creating.

  That was one of the things he liked most about William and MI in general. He’d never met a more forward-thinking chap... until he worked with Andrew.

  “Are the reports ready for the Romanov negotiations?”

  “Of course,” he smoothly replied.

  “Email them to me.”

  “They’re already in your inbox, sir,” Ella cut in. “Mr. York sent them last week.”

  Shooting Ella a grateful but surprised look at her defense of him, he added, “As are the last seven emails from T & G Securities.”

  T & G Securities was MI’s biggest competition, and they were keen on wooing Blake away to work for them. With every polite refusal, the head of their company had upped his offer until he finally began to ask Blake to share company benefits in return for large sums of money.

  He rather hated underhanded desperation.

  His phone buzzed, and he grimaced. Another text from T & G Securities popped up on the screen, asking for MI’s latest project along with veiled hints as to what he would receive if he were to help them. The amount was ten times what he had contracted with MI, money that could easily be hidden.

  He’d be a fool to turn them down.

  “And the latest offer.” But at least he’d be an honest fool with a clear conscience. He slid the phone to Andrew.

  Andrew’s eyes narrowed before he exhaled, leaning back in his chair with a pained expression. “I don’t like to be wrong, but York... I was wrong about you.” A genuine smile broke out on his face. “How about we celebrate your latest defeat of Romanov’s attack dogs over drinks at King’s?”

  Confusion filled Blake. “I’ve not gone against them yet.”

  “Call it a hunch, and I’m never wrong about those,” Andrew smugly replied.

  “And your hunch about me?” Blake asked lightly.

  “That wasn’t a hunch; it was an opinion.”

  “Fair enough. I look forward to drinks.” Blake stood, adjusting the cuff links at the end of his sleeves. “If you’ll excuse me, I have virus reports to go over. Entertaining reads, that.”

  “Drinks at six,” Andrew reminded him.

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” With a nod to Ella, he walked out of Andrew’s office, heading down the hallway to his own.

  “Mr. York!”

  Blake paused, turning slightly, a smile kicking up the corners of his mouth. His heart sped up.

  Ella strode toward him, her statuesque figure a sight to behold in the form-fitting blue dress. Her auburn hair was caught up in a low bun, and her generous mouth was smiling at him. Eyes the color of hot chocolate made him want to melt. The woman was absolute perfection.

  She stopped inches in front of him, her heels making her nearly the same height as he was. He had to stop himself from touching her—from finding out if her pale skin was as soft as it looked.

  “Yes?” His voice sounded husky, and he cleared his throat.

  She held out her hand. Did she want him to take it? Would she lead him to the nearest empty office and—

  “Your phone. You left it behind.”

  “Quite so.” He tugged at the collar of his shirt and then took it
from her, holding it up like a prize. Fitting since he was a prize fool. “Thank you so much, Ms. Simpson.”

  She beamed at him. “Call me Ella.”

  “As long as you agree to call me Blake. This Mr. York nonsense makes me feel rather old.” And like his father—a wastrel of man who gambled away what was left of the family fortune by the time Blake was seventeen.

  “Deal.”

  “Would you care to... ah, have lunch with me?” he asked.

  The light in her dark eyes dimmed a little. “I’m sorry, but I already have a date—I mean, a business lunch—scheduled with Drew.”

  He didn’t miss that she had to correct herself. “Tomorrow?”

  She hedged. “Drew might need me at the last minute. I’d hate to have to cancel.”

  “Your boss is very demanding. Perhaps you should request a transfer—I’m much more accommodating.” He winked, and then leaned into her a little, lowering his voice. “The pay is better and saying, ‘I can’t answer the phone because I’m on Facebook’ is a legitimate excuse.”

  Her smile turned into a grin. “If only, but Drew needs me.”

  Blake needed her. “When he doesn’t, perhaps you’ll accept my offer?”

  She nodded, auburn hair shining under the lights. “Promise.”

  As she walked away, Blake stood there, watching as her curvy hips swayed. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  ***

  Blake surveyed the private room at King’s. It was plush, well stocked, and manned by a young woman wearing a snakeskin-print bustier and black shorts that left little to the imagination.

  Only, he wouldn’t imagine anything. The woman, more like a girl, couldn’t be more than twenty-one. Even if there weren’t a decade between them in age, he wouldn’t have touched her. No matter how hard she tried to get him to.

  “Is this usually where you get up to?” he asked Andrew. No, Drew. Andrew had insisted that Blake call him Drew.

  Their comely server bent at the waist, putting her breasts practically in Blake’s face.

  Annoyance flashed in Drew’s green eyes.

  “Love, could you give us some privacy?” Blake asked, deliberately laying on the posh accent.

  She giggled. “Call me when you need me.”

  “And that will be never,” he muttered as soon as the door shut behind her.

  “Either we’re getting older or they’re getting younger,” Drew remarked.

  “A little of both, I suspect.”

  “You didn’t want what she’s been offering for the past fifteen minutes?” Drew asked.

  Was this a test? Had he been setup? “I enjoyed the display, but I won’t be sampling or buying.”

  “Good man.” Drew’s phone buzzed. “Damn it.”

  “What?”

  “Just my luck is what. First time is weeks I’ve had the chance to relax, and Ella’s computer goes on the fritz. She says she’s locked out.” His head fell back as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Guess I’ll have to cut this short.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Blake motioned for Drew to sit. “After all, my computer skills are one of the reasons your father hired me.”

  Drew gave him an appraising glance. “Hacking is a computer skill?”

  Blake felt heat rising in his face, but he refused to feel shame. “For those who lack any other type of skill, yes.”

  “Since when does royalty need any other skills besides charm?” Drew grinned. “That’s reason two my father hired you.”

  Blake was so far removed from being royalty that it was laughable, but he wasn’t about to correct Drew, or defend what he had done once he’d reached adulthood. A man had to do what he could to survive to provide for his family.

  “Quite.” He grabbed his phone and pocketed it. “I’ll be off. Consider a raincheck, yes?”

  Drew nodded. “Next time I have off.”

  *

  In no time at all, Blake arrived at Montgomery Industry. He waited impatiently while the elevator whisked him up to the top floor of the building. Blood pounded in his head, his heart kicked against his chest, and his entire body was alive with anticipation.

  Ella needed him.

  Well, she didn’t know she needed him, but he would be the one to rescue her. Not Drew.

  The doors opened with a muffled swoosh, and he stepped out into the hallway, keeping his steps measured. He couldn’t appear to have been running the entire way. That wouldn’t do at all.

  Ella appeared before him, her face worried and pinched. “Is Drew coming?”

  “No. He sent me as his emissary.”

  A rush of air left her. “Thank God. I feel so stupid. No matter what I do, I can’t get back into the system.”

  “No worries. I’ll take a crack at it and get you sorted.” He followed Ella into her office and sat down at her desk. “What program were you in?”

  “Company email.” She began to pace in front of him, biting at her nails. “Everything froze, and then went back to the log-in page.”

  “Don’t hate me for asking, but have you tried shutting it down?”

  She froze. “No, I didn’t. I panicked and texted Drew.”

  He gave her a friendly smile. “Let’s try that, shall we?” Giving her computer the one-fingered salute, he powered it down, counted to twenty, and then started it up again. “What’s your login, love?”

  With a grateful smile, she joined him and gave him her information. Her floral scent washed over him, and he breathed her in. She smelled so bloody good.

  He simply sat there, watching the screen as he enjoyed her nearness.

  “Let me call Drew so he knows everything is okay,” she said, walking away. He wanted to call out for her to stop, to stay with him... He was the one who’d fixed the damned computer, not Drew.

  Her email program popped up and he searched through it, finding a folder with hundreds and hundreds of emails that had never been sent.

  He pulled at his ear. That was odd. Opening the first one, he began to read.

  Dear Andrew,

  Today you wore the most perfect suit-and-tie combination. Of course, I’m biased since I was the one who gave you that tie.

  He quit reading, then went to the next email and the next. Every single one was written to Drew. And every fucking one of them ended with Love, Love Always, or Your Ella.

  Snarling, he shoved the mouse away from him and stood up. He was so stupid. Infatuation. Ha! More likely, Ella and Drew were carrying on an affair, and that bastard wanted to keep it a secret.

  “Oh my God,” Ella croaked, her gaze bouncing from his face to the computer screen and back again. “You weren’t... no one was supposed to see that.”

  “Imagine.” He clenched his jaw. “You’re better than that.”

  She bent over the desk, closing the emails and finally, the program altogether. When she turned to him, her face was a dull scarlet and her eyes were furious. “You had no right to snoop through my things.”

  “I wasn’t snooping. I was trying to figure out why the program locked up your computer.” Fury boiled in his blood. “Why would let him treat you like that?”

  “Treat me like what?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Like a bloody secret. If you were mine, I would be proud to have you on my arm.”

  Her mouth opened and closed. “Drew doesn’t know. He doesn’t treat me any way. Got that?”

  He blinked at her, and then at her computer. “Are you saying you wrote hundreds of emails to him and never sent them?”

  When she answered with a tight nod, he began to laugh. He laughed so hard that tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “Are you bloody demented?”

  A resounding smack sounded in the room, followed by a sharp pain radiating out from the center of where she had struck him. He grabbed her arm before she could do it again.

  “I didn’t deserve that.”

  “Yes, you did.” Her lips quivered and her eyes were round, as if she couldn’t quite believe w
hat she had done.

  Maybe he had, but he wasn’t about to let her get away with hitting him. “Say you’re sorry.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her gaze became downcast, and he let her go. “Please don’t say anything.”

  “I’m too stunned to say anything.” With that, he walked out of her office.

  *

  The next morning, Blake went into work like usual. Unlike usual, Ella ignored him on the elevator and at the coffee and bagel bar. At their weekly staff meeting, she all but pretended he didn’t exist while he sat directly across from her.

  Once the meeting was over, he said, “Ms. Simpson, might I have a word with you?”

  She gave him a glacial smile. “What can I help you with, Mr. York?”

  “It’s Blake.”

  “My apologies. What can I help you with?” she asked, leaving his name off altogether.

  “Why the frosty reception this morning?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  “I didn’t realize that I was required to be sunny and warm around you,” she snapped, and he was taken aback. His Ella never spoke like that. Ever.

  “Civility isn’t a hardship, Ella.”

  She looked down her nose at him. “I have to get back to work, sir.”

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said and she flushed, giving him a glimpse of the real Ella.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said politely.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. I only wanted you to know you have nothing to fear from me,” he pointed out.

  “Thank you, sir, for setting my mind at ease about workplace violence.”

  He made a face of disgust. To equate him with an abuser... it was the worst insult she could ever give him. “Why are you twisting my words?”

  “I’m sorry, sir.” A blank look covered her face. “Is there anything else, sir?”

  “No,” he said tightly.

  She walked away from him, her shoulders rigid and her back straight. He willed her to look back, to reconsider this new attitude, and become his friend once more.

  But she didn’t.

  And now he knew that he’d lost her forever.

  So much for being her rescuer.

 

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